


Houses of the Holy

by mugglerock



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Confessional Sex, Dark, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Demon Dean, Demon Dean Winchester, If I Wasn't an Atheist I'd Probably Go to Hell for This, Jimmy Novak But Not Really, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Porn, Priest Dean, Priest Kink, Prompt Fic, Prompt Fill, Semi-Public Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 16:00:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10880166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mugglerock/pseuds/mugglerock
Summary: Prompt Fill: “Show me how devout you are… on your knees.”When he took possession of the meat suit he found being serviced by a man in an alleyway after he escaped from Hell, he didn’t think for even one moment that the body he possessed belonged to a Catholic Priest.





	Houses of the Holy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sydkn3e](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sydkn3e/gifts).



> Fill for the Facebook Prompt: “Show me how devout you are… on your knees.”
> 
> I hope I did the concept justice, Sydney! And fuck yes, I went tropey with this bitch. I'm not sure if I should apologize or not. I'm more sorry for using a Led Zeppelin song for the title of this. Although, they'd probably be fucking psyched their music is associated with blasphemous porn.
> 
> Also, unbeta'd. If you catch any mistakes, holler at me.

**Houses of the Holy**

 

When he took possession of the meat suit he found being serviced by a man in an alleyway after he escaped from Hell, he didn’t think for even one moment that the body he possessed belonged to a Catholic Priest. Granted, once the meat suit’s memories invaded his mind’s eye, he was then more surprised that the guy on his knees in front of him appeared to be of legal age.

 

This was going to be fun.

 

* * *

 

Despite a plethora of lore and supposed knowledge on demons, humans got a lot of it wrong. Demons _could_ step foot on hallowed ground. Demons _could_ touch crucifixes. Hell, they could do a lot more than terrible films from the 1980’s starring Linda Blair would have you believe.

 

Humans did get a couple of things right, though. He had to give them that much credit. Holy water burned like a motherfucker. And muttering Jesus Christ’s name in Latin would reveal their true form for a moment. But everything else? Bullshit. The only thing that could hold a demon, was a devil’s trap; and only a handful of, what they called hunters, really knew what a devil’s trap looked like.

 

When he reached the rectory for the meat suit, he found identifying papers. Dean Winchester. _Huh._ Kind of boring name. As he looked over his reflection, he shrugged. Kind of boring appearance, too. Looked like the boy next door type. The guy did have a pretty face, though. _Oh, yeah._ He was going to have a lot of fun.

 

The first thing he did was replace the holy water in the parish with regular old tap water. That way, when he blessed people at mass, he wouldn’t sizzle and give himself away. And that was the thing, he was more excited about holding mass than a demon probably had any right to. But the thought of steering an entire community of god-fearing people in the _other_ direction... well, it would likely please his one, true master: Lucifer.

 

The first Sunday mass found Dean Winchester dressing in his cassock, sliding on the clerical collar. He chuckled at his reflection as his eyes automatically flashed black for a moment as he clapped the collar on. He donned his vestment for mass and made his way to the church. There was a smattering of parishioners already inside waiting and Dean had to refrain from laughing maniacally.

 

As he made his way to the altar, something caught his eye. Or, more accurately, _someone._ A young man, maybe in his late twenties or early thirties. Dirty mop of dark brown hair standing up in all different directions, like he’d rolled out of bed after having his brains fucked out. Electric blue eyes that, had they shone any brighter, Dean would have wondered if the guy was actually an angel. And a mouth that was just built for sin. The man was kneeling at a pew, already reciting a prayer under his breath, hands clenched together as he rested his forehead against them. Clearly, quite devout.

 

Dean found his first target.

 

* * *

 

After the first mass, Dean stood by the door, bidding goodbye to his parishioners one by one. There was a reason for that. When blue eyes approached, Dean took his proffered hand in both of his.

 

“Did you like the service?” He was proud of himself for not outright leering at the man.

 

“It was a little, uh… unconventional… but yes, I found it enjoyable.” Sweet Beelzebub was that man’s voice delicious. A deep, almost raspy voice that instantly made Dean think of sex.

 

Thankful for the loose fitting robes, Dean nodded, soaking in the warmth of the man’s body heat. “Good. How long have you been attending services here?”

 

Under his scrutinizing gaze, the man appeared to shy away. Dean finally released his hold on the man’s hand. After a beat, he finally answered with a timid, “Today was my first at this church. But I’ve been Catholic since… well, birth.”

 

 _Perfect._ Dean arched his brow. “Then you deserve the tour, mister?”

 

“Novak. James Novak.”

 

“Stop by this Saturday, Jimmy. I’ll give you the grand tour,” the invitation practically dripped from his tongue. The fact that Jimmy nodded meekly and departed without so much a goodbye, Dean was almost instantly aroused. There was something about the man’s overall appearance, a sexual adonis, with the mindset of a good, little Catholic boy? Dean hoped he was a virgin.

 

* * *

 

If Dean was going to completely taint a pure soul, in every way imaginable, he decided it would be best to not wear any of his clerical attire. Dressed in a plain white t-shirt and jeans, he greeted Jimmy in the front of the church doors that following Saturday.

 

Jimmy’s eyes widened for a moment, before he let out a nervous chuckle. “You almost look like a regular person.”

 

Dean barked out a laugh. “Yeah, funny how taking off that dog collar makes me a mere mortal.”

 

At that, Jimmy’s cheeks reddened from apparent embarrassment. _Delicious._ When he started to sputter out an apology, Dean had to stop himself from taking the man then and there. He waved his hand dismissively. “Please. I was teasing you.”

 

Jimmy let out a relieved sigh. “I’m sorry. I have a tendency to put my foot in my mouth. My people skills are… rusty.”

 

Unable to stop himself, he grinned. Dean clapped a hand on his shoulder and gently urged Jimmy forward. “How about that tour?”

 

At the muted nod and appreciative smile, Dean guided him through the church’s garden, through the parish, until they reached the rectory. Jimmy was perusing the bookshelf in the office as Dean surreptitiously locked the door.

 

“You know…” Jimmy murmured as he moved to stand straight before turning to face Dean. “I never would have expected a priest to read the Harry Potter books.”

 

Dean chuckled and shrugged. “A man cannot live on scriptures alone.” Like a tiger honing in on its prey, Dean carefully approached. Slowly, each step a precise and perfect movement. Jimmy didn’t appear to notice as he hummed noncommittally and continued to look over the other artifacts of the office.

 

Back turned to Dean now as he looked over the painting hung on display behind the desk, he crept up behind the man. Dean’s breath ghosted over the nape of Jimmy’s neck as he whispered, “Are you a devout man, Jimmy?”

 

The gasp would have been arousing on its own, but when the man turned and he was met with startled blue eyes, Dean thought he just might implode. Jimmy breathed out a surprised, “Father?”

 

Predatory grin in place, Dean leaned in, bracing his hands on either side of Jimmy’s head, crowding him against the wall. “Please. Call me Dean. Unless you’ve got a daddy kink, then I’m sure we can arrange something…”

 

Jimmy shoved at Dean’s chest, darting around him as he approached the door. He frantically yanked on the handle to no avail.

 

Dean chuckled as he dangled the key from its absurdly large ring. “It’s locked.”

 

The man spun around, trepidation and fear no longer clouding his beautiful face. Jimmy narrowed his eyes at Dean, arms folded over his chest as he demanded, “Let me out, Father.”

 

“What’ll you give me if I do?” he challenged, slowly making his way towards Jimmy.

 

“You’re a man of the cloth!”

 

Dean couldn’t help but laugh. “Yes, Jimmy. I’m also a _man._ A man with needs. Don’t think I didn’t catch the way you looked at me during mass.” He purposely licked over his lips as he drew closer to his prey.

 

Jimmy scoffed. “Staring does not equate to sin.”

 

“No, but impure thoughts do. Tell me you didn’t think about this exact scenario…” Dean stepped closer, bracing his hands on either side of Jimmy’s face again. “Tell me you didn’t fantasize about me, about how I taste?”

 

Jimmy shuddered as Dean’s breath ghosted over his neck. And yet, still defiant, he argued, “Thought doesn’t equate to sin, either.”

 

Dean drew back, lips quirked upwards in a smirk. “Neither does a kiss.”

 

That was met with a scowl and narrowed eyes. With a deep sigh, Jimmy quirked his brow and asked, “If I let you kiss me, will you let me out?”

 

While he may be a demon, there was something about the challenge of getting Jimmy to succumb to him of his own free will that made it all the more delectable. He could easily take this man against his will, but what’s the fun in that? Dean nodded. “Cross my heart, hope to die.”

 

Before Jimmy could agree, write out a list of stipulations, Dean closed the gap between them. The man kept his lips firmly pressed closed, so he had to play dirty. Dean sucked Jimmy’s bottom lip between his teeth and bit down, eliciting a shocked gasp. It was all he needed to deepen the kiss. At first, Jimmy was unresponsive, but when Dean managed to suck the man’s tongue into his mouth, they both began to melt into the kiss. Jimmy bucked up against him, groaning as he twisted his hands into the sleeves of Dean’s t-shirt for purchase.

 

Dean drew back, pleased to be met with a lust-filled gaze and heavy breathing. As he pressed forward, Jimmy’s breath hitched, as though in excited anticipation. He unlocked the door and pushed it open, smirking at Jimmy. “See you at mass tomorrow, Mr. Novak.”

 

* * *

 

Unlike his prediction, Jimmy did not attend mass that Sunday. Dean had to stifle his disappointment and proceeded to carefully guide the parishioners in the wrong direction. Spouting hatred and villainy. He decided to focus on the sins of homosexuals. The irony was too appetizing not to. He gave the Westboro Baptist Church a run for their money with the asinine shit he was spouting.

 

Later that evening, he took confession. It was usually Father McKenzie’s gig, but he took the night off to work at the local homeless shelter, fucking do-gooder. So, at the last minute, Dean agreed to cover for him.

 

The downside of being a priest in a small town meant, there weren’t too many folk seeking recompense for their sins. The upside? Those who did, usually had some of the most abhorrent sins imaginable. Dean loved it. It wouldn’t take much to corrupt them all.

 

After thirty minutes of sitting there, waiting for the penitents to come confess, Dean was about to give up and leave when he heard the door close of the confessional booth to his right. He flipped the light on and pulled up the board over the screen. Sitting in profile, he waited for the line.

 

“Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned. It’s been two weeks since my last confession.”

 

Dean had to repress the urge to laugh maniacally. He’d know that voice anywhere. “Go on, my son.”

 

“I’ve, uh… I’ve been having impure thoughts…”

 

He nodded, keeping his breathing in check as he asked, “What sort of impure thoughts?”

 

There was a slight shuffling, a deep sigh, and finally he answered, “Homosexual thoughts. Of… of a man of the cloth.”

 

Dean refrained from pumping his fist in triumph. “I see. That’s quite the transgression, my son. I don’t know if traditional penance will save you…”

 

He could see Jimmy’s silhouette shake his head, clearly confused. “I don’t understand, Father.”

 

Carefully, very carefully, he removed the screen separating them. Dean leaned through the now open space, smirking up at the genuine surprise on Jimmy’s face. “Told you not to call me that, unless it’s a kink.” He yanked Jimmy forward into a filthy kiss. When the man let out a needy moan, Dean was spurred to action.

 

Without thinking twice, Dean left his section of the booth and opened the door of the penitent’s. He gently closed the door behind him, eyebrow arched as he looked down upon Jimmy, staring up at him; a mixture of confusion and arousal in his eyes.

 

Before he could protest, or question him, Dean dropped to his knees. It was a little cramped, but he could deal with it if Jimmy let him take the next step of corrupting him entirely. Dean grasped the man’s belt buckle and started unfastening, never breaking eye contact.

 

“Wh–What are you doing?”

 

Dean smirked and quipped, “Giving you your penance…”

 

No other protests were uttered. Impossibly blue eyes just stared at him in awe as he managed to pull the man’s pants and boxers down enough to reveal his dick. Perfect mushroom head, little larger than average, hooked to the right, and slightly darker at the tip because of the blood rushing as the member slowly hardened under his appreciative gaze. Dean grinned as he swallowed him down effortlessly.

 

Jimmy bucked up with a surprised gasp. Dean worked his dick with an ease and expertise that a Catholic priest likely shouldn’t possess. But considering the position he found this particular priest when he possessed him; maybe that was the norm. Jimmy kept making delightful sounds, small moans, whimpers, as he slowly unraveled.

 

In under five minutes, Jimmy was gripping Dean’s hair as he tried to pull him off, the only warning he was capable of before succumbing to his sin. Dean wasn’t having any of it. He wanted to taste the beginnings of his corruption of such a pure soul.

 

After swallowing every salty drop, Dean drew back, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. “I absolve you from your sins. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

 

* * *

 

Three days later, much to his surprise, Jimmy had stormed into the rectory, eyes ablaze in righteous indignation. Dean chuckled and sprawled out on his bed, leaning back against his folded arms, eyebrow arched in amusement. “What can I do for you, Mr. Novak?”

 

“Cut the shit, demon,” he spat.

 

Dean instantly sat up. About to deny it when Jimmy’s eyes flashed and the shadows of two enormous wings enveloped the room. Dean grinned wickedly. “Well, well, well. Hello, Castiel.”

 

Castiel narrowed his eyes at Dean. “What is your business here, aside from attempting to corrupt poor Jimmy Novak?”

 

He shrugged, feigning an innocent expression. “I don’t know what you mean. I did nothing he didn’t want.”

 

The angel rolled his eyes. “You think that was Jimmy? He’s been my vessel for months.”

 

“Wait, wait, wait…” Dean moved to stand, approaching Castiel, eyes widened in excitement. “Are you telling me I wasn’t corrupting a human, but an angel?”

 

Castiel scoffed and folded his arms over his chest. “No. I just didn’t want to give away my identity. I played your little game until my investigation was finished. But you don’t appear to be working for anyone. Are you really here to just corrupt humans for the, pardon the pun, hell of it?”

 

Dean waggled his eyebrows. Yes and no, but the angel didn’t need to know that. He shrugged and stepped closer, but not too close. Angels could smite a demon with just a touch. “Pretty much. Are you telling me there wasn’t even a _tiny_ part of you that enjoyed what we did?”

 

“Enjoyment is subjective. You clearly garner pleasure from your perverse attempt at moral corruption. You no more enjoyed our sexual encounter, than I did.”

 

With a click of the tongue, he chastised the angel with a disagreeing hum. “Now, Castiel. You must know that isn’t true. I very much enjoyed the feel of your cock on my tongue. Your taste. Knowing it’s you? Makes it that much more delectable.”

 

Without hesitation, Castiel yanked Dean forward by his cassock, shoving him against the door. “Do not mistake my playing your game for anything it is not. You should show me some respect.”

 

Dean arched up against him, emitting a low growl that was half moan. His dick was rock hard. He smirked and breathed out, “I would never. I’m a man of the cloth.”

 

Castiel slammed him against the door again, lips a breath away. “You’re a demon.”

 

The tell-tale feeling of an erection was pressed against his hip. Dean grinned wickedly as he looked down, before slowly raking his gaze over the angel’s form until they were eye to eye. “And you’re hard.”

 

Before he knew what was happening, Castiel crushed their lips together. The way their teeth clacked was likely painful, but that was a non issue for a demon and an angel. Dean bucked up against Castiel’s groin as they began to devour each other. A battle for dominance, of which Dean was the first to concede. He allowed the angel to manhandle him, losing himself in one of the hottest fucking kisses he’d ever experienced.

 

Castiel drew back, eyebrow arched in challenge as he attempted to reign in his ragged breathing. “Man of the cloth, huh?” He grabbed Dean again and spun them around, walking him back towards the bed. “Show me how devout you are…” Castiel gripped Dean by the shoulders and shoved him to the ground as he finished with a commanding, “On your knees.”

 

Dean grinned up at him. “Gladly.”

  
**The End.**


End file.
